


All Roads

by marsali



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Also all the other episodes before that, Angst, Depression, Drug Use, M/M, Matteo isn't being rational, Season 3 Episode 6 Clip 1, i haven't written in ages so sorry if this is a bit bumpy, i know some of the stuff he's thinking contradicts itself, okay?, sad thoughts, that's on purpose, urgh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 06:26:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18463346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsali/pseuds/marsali
Summary: Everything comes back to David, doesn’t it? Like that shitty proverb about all roads leading to Rome? All of Matteo’s thoughts eventually lead back to David.





	All Roads

Matteo has been in bed - or on the couch - since Friday. 

He isn’t sure how many days that makes it now. Time has started to be something that moves in stringy molasses and at the same time it blurs in smudged colors, making the room look like a shitty kaleidoscope.  

But that might just be the joint talking.

Matteo is glad he has at least that. Something for his fingers to hold onto, since he’s got nothing else.

Roll it, take it in your hand, put it between your lips. Take a drag. Feel the smoke fill your lungs. Exhale. Watch the world go soft at the edges.

Then watch it spin and let your eyes go out of focus. They hurt from crying anyway.

After a while even that action, the action of putting the joint to his lips and taking it away again, even _that_ becomes too much. His arms feel heavy. His chest, too. Like someone put one of those lead vests on him. The ones they make you wear to take an x-ray. Or like someone is sitting there. Holding down his arms.

But that’s okay. He can still smoke. Just leave the joint there between his lips. Still works.

Story of his life, kind of. Something is holding every molecule of him down and yet the world around him and the world underneath him spins, spins, _spins_ and moves on.

Like what happened on Friday doesn’t matter.

To the world it probably doesn’t. Not the way it does to Matteo.

Then again, when has the world ever given a shit about Matteo and what he’s feeling?

He swallows drily. His throat still hurts from crying and how pathetic is that? Even now, now that he’s stopped, now that he’s thirsty and should probably drink something, even now when crying won’t even fucking work anymore – something inside of him still wants to do it.

Tears bring relief, if even for just a second. A second here and there is all he can take sometimes. Matteo all alone. Crying his pathetic little heart out. Second for second. Minute for minute. Even that seems too much work.

Matteo knows he should get up. Probably. To try and eat something again, even though he isn’t hungry. His last attempt ended with taking one bite out of one of those individually packaged cheese slices. Only to remember that he bought those because they’re good for making grilled cheese sandwiches. Because that was his and … David’s thing. Because he has been looking forward to future nights spent laughing in the kitchen, biting into slightly less shitty cheese sandwiches. 

His stomach had roiled then and thinking about it now makes something in Matteo feel like it’s been stabbed.

He just doesn’t know what the hell he did wrong. He thought they were happy. He thought he had finally found someone who cared. Someone who didn’t think he was weird or Jonas’s annoying tag along. Just a stoner. Or someone who is just naturally sad all the time. With David everything had seemed … better. Brighter. The world had started moving at a faster pace again. Like he had managed to free himself of some of the weights that had slowed him down. Or like someone had finally pressed the right button on the remote to jump out of slow-mo.

Rationally, Matteo knows that it’s sort of fucked up that just one person can do that to him. Can have such an impact.

But … _shit_. If anyone can have that effect on anyone it has to be David, right?

David with his shining smile and those eyes. And those stupidly long lashes that Matteo is pretty sure are illegal. David who doesn’t say much, but all he _does_ say is important. Who’s mysterious and somehow sad about it. Who eats Matteo’s food, even if it's disgusting, and who takes him on dates where the main attraction is David himself. And Matteo doesn’t even have it in him, not even now, to find that arrogant, _because it was_   _true_. All they needed was each other on that day. Matteo has been foolish enough to think that that was just how they were. How they worked.

Now they don’t work at all and Matteo knows it must be his fault. Somehow.

He’s just assumed that …

Fuck.

Matteo closes his eyes tightly. He doesn’t have the energy to do more and the vest is still around him, weighing him down anyway. He wants to rage, but it’s like he threw all the anger, and the effort it takes to be angry, down on the ground along with his phone.

Stupid. Stupid. _Fucking stupid_.

He’s just assumed that what? That David feels exactly the same about him as he does about David? That Matteo makes David’s world light up and rush forward? Stoner Matteo, more like a ghost than anything else? Matteo who people aren’t even sure is in their class?

Please.

He hasn’t ever been good enough for anyone.

Not his dad.

Not his mom.

Not Jonas, Carlos, and Abdi who don’t seem to think much of Matteo not going to parties or vanishing for hours during them. Who only care about girls and what to get from them.

Even Hans is pissed at him and pissing of Hans is an achievement all on its own.

He can’t even be mad at them. Not really. He made them all go away or left them out of his own volition. He’s been too much for his dad. He’s fucked things up so bad that Jonas is only good for partying and random girls anymore, even if Jonas doesn’t know that. And Hans, well.

He’s made Hans think that he hates him for who he is, when the only person Matteo truly hates is himself.

Fuck knows what he did to David, but it has to be something. Something so bad that David suddenly doesn’t want him anymore.

_Lass mich in Ruhe. Ich will nichts von dir._

Matteo’s arms conveniently start working again before the joint can fall from his lips because the way they pull to the sides at the fresh pain that comes with thinking about David’s last text.  

Matteo idly wonders if it’ll ever stop hurting or if it will just start feeling numb like the rest of him.

He’s not sure what he prefers.

His phone keeps buzzing but he can’t be fucked to look at who it is again. He doesn’t want to talk. It's just as well that the screen is broken. 

In his own effed up way he’s happy Hans isn’t here. That he can’t unburden himself. Because that might help. Make the pain less.

And that wouldn’t be okay. He deserves to be alone, to be hurt. Everything is as it should be.

The last few weeks were an anomaly. An outlier that should not be counted.

Now everything has righted itself again.

And he’s so fucking _tired, tired_ , _tired_.

As Matteo takes another drag from his joint, the door buzzes.

The sound is grating but if it weren’t, he maybe wouldn’t even have heard it. It still takes a second for him to make sure if it’s actually happening.

Getting up takes an inhuman kind of effort and it only happens in increments. The room keeps spinning, but he’s the only one who is home and really, he might as well get up and see who it is. Maybe Hans forgot his keys again. He’s been shitty enough to him. He doesn’t have to put locking him out of his own apartment on top of it all.

When he opens the door, suddenly Amira is in front of him and he can’t for the life of him remember what she could be doing here. So, he just stares at her dumbly, numbly, and hopes she’ll explain.

She’s out of breath. Matteo finds the braincells to think that looking at her alone is exhausting.

“Hey. Wie siehst du denn aus?”, is the first thing out of her mouth.

It takes time for the question to reach him. He feels like a game that’s lagging as bends his head to look down at his shirt. He looks like shit. So what? It’s not like Amira isn’t used to that.

“Äh … Willst du mich nicht reinlassen?”, she asks when he doesn’t say anything to that.

Right.

Matteo takes a step back and let’s her in. He wonders how long she’ll allow him to go without saying anything.

He still isn’t sure why she’s here.

He’s just tired.

“Okay. Wo woll’n wir eigentlich hin? Ins Wohnzimmer, in dein Zimmer oder in die Küche?” She’s taking off her jacket as she says it, so that means she wants to stay for a bit and Matteo isn’t really into that.

Plus, she isn’t parting with her secret, so Matteo has to try and get his mouth to work. Maybe knowing what she wants will make it easier to get her to leave again.

“Warum?”, he manages to get out, hands buried in the pockets of his pants to keep them from fidgeting.

Amira looks at him like he’s an idiot. She’s always had his number when it comes to that. “Lernen? Bio? Lernpartner?”

She snaps her fingers and he forces out the word “Wohnzimmer”, because it’s the only room he has any hope to find enough concentration to study in.

It’s the only room in which he hasn’t spent time around David. The only room where he hasn’t touched him. Laughed with him. Kissed him. Almost kissed him.

Amira is all business and strides into the living room.

Matteo is a masochist and shoots a quick glance into the kitchen to make some more pain cut through the haze he’s in. It’s at odds with how soft David’s upper lip had felt against his own that night.

While Amira settles in, he makes a half-assed attempt to find his biology textbook. The only thing he finds is the drawing of vampire David clutching a toaster. He’s been staring at that for days, probably. Wondering. This time the spike of pain hits him unexpectedly, so he turns tail and goes back to the living room. The pain is worse when he isn’t doing it to himself on purpose.

“Kann mein Buch nicht finden”, he mumbles and has to repeat himself when Amira can’t understand him. Opening his mouth and making words is hard and he isn’t sure it’s worth it.

“Du kannst mit in meins reinschauen.”

That’s nice of her. She’s being nice.

It only goes downhill from there, though.

Next, he has to ask for a sheet of paper. He can’t concentrate. He can’t remember anything their biology teacher said.

It doesn’t take long for Amira to get mad at him.

If he ever has to put together a resume, he should list that as one of his talents. He can make anyone angry.

“Das macht keinen Sinn”, she tells him

And it probably doesn’t. Make sense to waste time on him.

She starts stuffing her books back into her bag.

And suddenly, he’s afraid of her leaving the apartment.

His brain is fucked up like that. He wants to be alone, because that’s what he deserves. But he is also so, so afraid of it. He can feel his body getting cold, the back of his neck prickling. He didn’t want Amira to come but the thought of her leaving because of him ( _again_ , his brain whispers maliciously, _again someone leaves because of you, you idiot, you waste of space, you_ -) is … bad. Just. He has to try to make it better.

He makes some shitty joke. Musters up a smile, even though the corners of his mouth weigh a literal ton.

It makes her pause for a second. “Weißt du, Matteo. Ich kann verstehen wenn’s dir schlecht geht. Ich … ich kenn das. Mir geht’s manchmal nicht anders.”

He listens. Amira always seems so self-assured. Like she’s wearing armor nothing and nobody can destroy. So, can she actually understand? Does she really? She sounds vulnerable and that’s not something he is used to. Not from her.

But then she starts talking about how he has to stop, how he has to change, and he lets himself fall back onto the couch. Sure. That’s all people ever want. For him to change. Be someone else. Matteo just being Matteo has never been good enough for anyone.

She makes him feel guilty. _I don’t come here because it’s fun for me, or because I don’t have anything better to do._

Yeah. God forbid anyone actually wanting to spend time with him. But that is his fault right? Thinking that she might want to be here?

“Und … auch wenn’s nicht mein Bier ist … Sara ist mega abgefuckt wegen dir.”

And even that makes him feel guilty, because he didn’t handle the breakup with her in a good way at all. He didn’t want to hurt her. He just wanted it to be over. For himself, mostly, but also for her. He knows he didn’t make her happy. Matteo just didn’t think the break up would be this bad for her. Not when it felt like freedom to him.

Then a thought occurs to him.

“Haste mit ihr gesprochen oder was?”, he wants to know. Because that’s just great, isn’t it? Nobody has asked him about the breakup or about how it makes him feel. Nobody can be bothered with doing that.

Even David only asked if Sara was sad.

_Fucking shit._

Matteo has to suppress a sigh.  

Everything comes back to David, doesn’t it? Like that shitty proverb about all roads leading to Rome? All of Matteo’s thoughts eventually lead back to David.

While Matteo stares down that rabbit hole, Amira sees herself out.

The door bangs shut and the sound echoes through the apartment.

It also echoes against the walls closing in around him.

His phone vibrates and he takes a look before he remembers that it won't light up anymore and then chucks it onto the couch.

He doesn’t want to talk. Talking doesn’t do anything. Everything he says just makes everything turn to shit.

He’s just tired.

He needs to smoke.

So he goes back to his room, shuts himself in again.

He lies back down on the couch and rolls himself another joint.

He shuts his eyes and inhales the smoke.

And then he debates what he should torture himself with. David’s drawing? Or _Take me to Church_?

In in the end he doesn’t do either.

He doesn’t need to.

The song is stuck in his head, already.

And the drawing has been burned into the backs of his eyelids.

Matteo doesn’t need help putting a knife into his belly.

He’s the best at hurting himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Urgh, hello. We're all being tortured by Druck right now, so I thought I'd add to that? Yay?


End file.
